Since reincarnatin plays a big part in Erin’s Rebel, my Civil War time travel romance, and short paranormal romance, Dreaming Josie, I thought it would be fun to do a post on the theory of reincarnation. In Erin’s Rebel, the heroine travels back in time only to find she’d lived in that time period, but had no memory of her past life.

Do you believe in reincarnation? I can’t say for sure that I do, but it’s a fun idea for fiction. I especially love stories connecting those with a passion to reenact the American Civil War to those who’d actually lived through it in a past life.

Besides, Erin’s Rebel, reincarnation plays a very big part in my short romance novella, Dreaming Josie. The hero is a reenactor who discovers through hynopsis that he was a soldier in a past life.

I found an online account of a child who remembers being a soldier. Tell me what you think.

“Sit on your mom’s lap, close your eyes, and tell me what you see when you hear the loud noises that scare you,” Norman gently instructed Chase. I looked down at Chase’s freckled face. Nothing could have prepared me for what I was about to hear.

Young Chase immediately began describing himself as a soldier–an adult soldier–carrying a gun. “I’m standing behind a rock. I’m carrying a long gun with a kind of sword at the end.” My heart was pounding in my ears, and the hair on my arms stood up as I listened. His 9-year-old sister Sarah and I glanced at each other in wide-eyed amazement.

“What are you wearing?” Norman questioned.

“I have ripped clothes, brown boots, a belt. I’m hiding behind a rock, crouching on my knees and shooting at the enemy. I’m at the edge of a valley. The battle is going on all around me.”

Civil War reenactor, Kyle Dalton, keeps seeing a beautiful woman on the battlefield tending to soldiers, he thinks she’s another reenactor. But when she disappears into thin air, he starts to believe he’s seen a ghost. Did he have a past life with this woman?

Excerpt:

“Where am I?”

“Shh.” She placed a finger on his lips. The scent of lavender invaded his senses.

He frowned when he realized he was lying on a cot wearing his reenactor clothing. Had he dreamed he’d come home?

“The doctor says you’ll be fine. He dug out the bullet and stitched up your leg.”

“My leg?” Kyle reached down. His pant’s leg had been cut apart at the seam. Heavy bandages wrapped around his thigh.

“This doesn’t make any sense. I twisted my ankle. It’s fine now.”

She took his hand and stroked his forehead. Her touch sent warmth and desire through his body.

“I have to know…” He swallowed. “…your name.”

She smiled. “You haven’t forgotten me already?”

“I…you never told me.”

“Of course I did.”

She leaned away.

He held tightly to her hand, fearing she’d leave again.

“Don’t go.” Her hand dissolved. He couldn’t hold her.

My reincarnation story, Dreaming Josie, was originally part of the EPIC finalist Civil War romance anthology NORTHERN ROSES AND SOUTHERN BELLES, under the title ‘Angel of My Dreams’ in 2009.

“Over here,” one of the men called. She glanced up to find a corporal motioning to her. He had a stretcher lying beside a prone man. Noting the lightening sky, she scurried over to help. They had to hurry.

The corporal glanced up. “Can you lift his legs, while I grab his shoulders?”

She nodded and positioned herself by the wounded man’s feet. Fearing he was one of her friends, she tried not to look at the soldier’s face. The corporal slid his hands under the wounded man’s shoulders. She grasped his ankles.

“Heave to,” the corporal ordered.

Lifting together, they moved the soldier over to the stretcher. She squatted before the handles of the stretcher, waiting for the corporal to order her to lift.

He nodded, grasping the handles at the soldier’s head. She took a deep breath and lifted her end. As she struggled to straighten her legs to carry the man off the field to the waiting ambulance, a piercing pain hit her in the upper thigh. Gasping, she dropped her end of the litter and crumpled to the ground grasping her leg.

Amanda gasped. “You can’t be serious.” She lifted both hands to her mouth. “What a wonderful place to live!” She dropped her gaze and twisted her hands in her skirts. “But I’m sure with all those modern women to choose from, you’d have no interest in an old-fashioned girl like me.”

“Amanda…” Jack took both her hands in his. “I’ve never met anyone like you. When I first saw your photo—”

“My photo?” She frowned. “Where did you see it?”

“It was in the house where you found me, but in the future. It was hanging on the wall at the bottom of the stairs.”

“In the house Randolph is building?” Her lower lip trembled.

Jack leaned forward, unable to stop himself, and lightly brushed his lips over hers. She tasted sweet, like cinnamon and sugar.

She reared back, her lips in a firm line, but then opened, as he enfolded her pliant body in his arms. He stroked his hands around her back and pulled her as close as possible. Her heart beat swiftly, like a delicate, caged bird.

The kiss rocked him to his core. Although he’d dreamed of kissing those lush lips, the reality was so much better. An ache formed in his chest at the thought of going home and never seeing her again.

He finally released her. Her eyes looked a bit glazed, her lips swollen and her hair mussed. He bit his lip, wondering what reception they’d get at supper.
****

Amanda’s knees weakened as a thrill raced through her body. No man had ever kissed her like that. Of course, she hadn’t had much opportunity with other men. And had never allowed Randolph to get so close.

She gazed into Jack’s eyes. His lips twisted into an adorable half-smile, his eyes bright, face flushed. Had he felt the same thing she had?

“Are you okay, Amanda?” His smile turned down into a frown.

“I-I think so.” She touched her lips, the sensation of his pressed against hers still with her. She was also very aware of his male scent. If she didn’t fear someone would discover them, she’d fling her arms around him for another round of kisses.

Excerpt:“Will you be needing me to put fresh sheets on the empty cots, Doctor?”

“Yes, I fear more casualties are about to arrive. Maybe more than we can handle.”

The woman nodded. “I’ll do as many as I can.” As she turned away, he eyed her petite form and golden hair. Since he’d started his training at medical school, he hadn’t had much time for social pursuits. The young ladies he’d courted when he’d been apprenticed in Philadelphia, before going away to the university, had been mere diversions. But he had no dearth of young women showing interest in an unattached doctor, just didn’t have the time to pursue any type of courting with the demands the army put on his time.

He, another doctor and a few of the women nurses, readied the cots for new casualties. He cleaned his instruments and finally had time to sit and take the cup of tea a nurse handed him. He rubbed his fingers over his eyes. Last year, both armies had ceased hostilities over the winter months, but it seemed the fighting would go on this year right through Christmas. He doubted he’d get a furlough this year like he did over the holidays last year to pay a visit to his family in Washington, D.C. His father had passed on and his mother now lived with his married sister, Mary. He would have liked to visit them this Christmas, but the way things were progressing, he doubted he’d see them at all.

While he waited, he wondered how long it would take for the men to collect the casualties. He feared if the Rebs hadn’t ceased their fire, it would all be for naught. And, although he shouldn’t show favoritism, he’d hated to send the young private close to the action when there was a chance of him being injured. Unfortunately, he could do nothing but wait.
****
Dawn was fast approaching as Sara and the men with her scurried to secure as many wounded as they could before full daylight. She had no doubt the Rebels would resume fire then and all of them would be lost. She fingered the pistol tucked into the belt of her coat. She’d been in the ranks in previous battles and was skilled in both rifle and pistol. She’d defend herself if she had to.

Today I’m posting a scene from my Civil War time travel romance, where Erin comes to realize she’s woken up in a really strange situation.

Excerpt:Erin groaned. Her head and neck hurt like hell, and so did her nose. In fact, everything hurt. What had happened? She reached to the back of her head, where her fingers closed around a damp cloth. When she opened her eyes, a sharp pain knifed through her skull.

Focusing her thoughts, she recalled flashes of a dark, rainy highway. A truck hurtling toward her. The tree.

She turned her head and squinted into the yellow-white glow of a lantern. She wasn’t in her car but lying flat on her back.

Someone moved beside her. A man with a heavy drawl spoke. “Are you all right, ma’am? Can you speak?”

She stared at him. Was she in a hospital? No. The gangly, sandy-haired man with the handlebar mustache wasn’t wearing scrubs. He appeared to be in his early thirties and was dressed in an oversized, striped blue and white shirt draped over tan wool pants with a set of suspenders dangling to his knees. This sure wasn’t an emergency room.

The man pried the damp cloth from her hand and pressed it against the back of her head. “I don’t feel any broken bones, but you’ve got a nice sized lump right here. I reckon you have a nasty headache. Just what where you doing on that mare this hour of night?”

“I wasn’t on a horse,” she said. “I’ve never been on a horse in my life. It was a car crash. I hit a tree when that truck slid in front of me.”

“A bad fall like that could have affected your mind, Mrs. O’Connell.” The man eyed her. “You’re not making a lick of sense.”

“O’Connell? No. I think you’ve made a mistake, Doctor.” She scrutinized him. “You are a doctor, aren’t you?”

Civil War time travel romance, Erin’s Rebel, was a finalist in the Ancient City Romance Authors 2010 Reader’s Choice Award, paranormal category.

Excerpt:“Very well.” He glanced around the tent, hand picking three other soldiers.

The captain signaled the men to follow him. As she moved to obey, Ellison rested a hand on her shoulder. The warmth of his touch sent a jolt through her body.

“Take care, son. And bring back as many as you safely can.”

“Sure, Doc.” After a glance at his face, she moved away to follow the captain outside.
****
Kirk Ellison watched the soldiers march off behind the captain. He sighed and closed the tent flap. When Private Brewster had been assigned as a hospital steward, he’d taken the lad under his wing. He seemed too young and vulnerable to be in the army, should have been home on the farm helping his parents tend crops. Kirk had taken it upon himself to see to it that Brewster was permanently assigned hospital duty to keep him off the battlefield. He would hate to see the boy injured or killed.

A nurse, one of the volunteers from Maryland, approached gathering her skirts to keep them from being caught on the edges of the tables and cots.

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About the Author

Susan Macatee writes American Civil War romance, some with a paranormal twist. From time travels to vampire tales, her stories are always full of love and adventure.

She’s spent many years as a Civil War civilian reenactor with the 28th Pennsylvania Volunteer Regiment. She's a wife, mother of three grown sons, and has recently become a grandmother. She spends her free time inhaling books, watching baseball games and favorite old movies.